Timelord Down
by themodernteen
Summary: The Doctor returns from a planet home to venomous plants but doesn't realize he's stung. At first, he fights the poison, but it's up to Rory to treat the unconscious Time Lord whose species he knows nothing about. Aliens looking to kidnap the Doctor board the TARDIS & Amy & Rory must protect and heal him before it's too late. I don't own any Doctor Who characters or material.
1. Chapter 1

**Here's a new Doctor Who fanfic! It's the 11th Doctor and his companions are Amy and Rory! Enjoy!**

Amy slammed the door of the TARDIS shut.

"What _was_ that thing?!" She cried, her breaths puffing out in panicked gasps.

The Doctor's mood completely contrasted hers. He smiled gleefully - almost maniacally- and his eyes were vibrant with barely contained excitement, "A _Sonoflulops!_ "

"Oh, because that cleared it up," Amy glared at the Doctor, jaw clenched.

"A Sonoflulops, from the planet Sonofluilla!" he raced to the console, eyes darting across the machinery at a mile a minute, "they are large, plant-like creatures that closely resemble that of a Venus Flytrap, yet not quite as flirtatious."

"Flirtatious!?"

"Of course! Haven't you ever met one?"

"They aren't exactly very common in suburban England."

The Doctor continued, "Even though Sonoflulopses don't possess sharp teeth like a Venus Flytrap, they are much larger and have sharp, poisonous thorns."

"I saw the thorns, they were about as long as my little finger!"

"Yes, and we only saw the babies."

Amy gulped.

"The thorn of a grown Sonoflulops could wipe out a herd of buffalo within three seconds of contact. Lucky for us, they are a plantacious species, or else the universe would be a _very_ different place."

"Amy? Doctor? Is that you?"Rory came trudging into the console room. He wore a muted sweater vest and loose slacks. His eyes darted between Amy and the Doctor, "You two okay?"

"Never better!" the Doctor beamed, circling the console, tinkering with various gadgets and levers.

Amy exhaled deeply, "I need a bath."

Rory smirked as his wife stomped down the stairs, grumbling about her tangled hair and scuffed clothing. She retreated down the hall to her bedroom.

Rory watched her go, then turned to the Doctor. He looked hyper, a stunning opposite to Amy's sour mood. His mind was probably beating as fast as his two hearts, never resting, always eight steps ahead of everyone else.

"Doctor?"

"Rory the Roman! What can I do you for?" his eyes didn't once leave the console screens and buttons. He moved around the machinery like it was a dance routine, a ballad he had been practicing for millennia - which indeed he had.

"I was wondering if Amy and I could pop off for the weekend back home? You see, it's my father's birthday and he made dinner plans."

The Doctor continued to jump around his console.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" the Timelord finally looked up.

"Are you okay?"

"Perfectly perfect, Mr. Pond!"

"Did you hear my question?"

"What question?"

 _That's odd._

The Doctor looked away, back to humming around the console excitedly. His movements were overactive and hyper, verging on maniacal. His eyes were bright, yet with a slightly frightening undertone. Like a madman.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" Rory slowly approached the console, treating the scenario as he would with a psychologically unfit patient.

"Alright? Everything is brilliant! Nothing could possibly hinder the moment! I am feeling absolutely terrific!"

"Okay, just calm down now," Rory held up a cautious hand.

"Calm down? Calm down?! How can I calm down?! My mind is absolutely _bursting_ apart with new ideas, places to visit, timelines to fix!"

"Doctor, stop it now. Something is wrong with you."

"Didn't you hear me earlier, Rory? I am perfectly-"

"Perfect, yes I heard. Except you are not. Please, just take a seat for a moment so I can examine you."

"Examine me?"

Rory was just a few steps away from him now.

"Yes, please."

"You're going to need to catch me first!"

Like a fast hare, the Doctor dashed around the console and swung over the railing to the bottom floor. Rory rushed to the railing to see if he was hurt. The Doctor took off again, like a schoolboy in a game of tag.

"Doctor, stop! This is unlike you!"

"It is," he stopped for a moment, panting, "I love it!" he sped off again.

 _How am I going to do this? Is he just going to tire himself out?_

The Doctor had two hearts. That was unlikely.

"Why look at this!"

Rory followed the voice. Now, the Doctor climbed one of the stairs to the higher floors. He eyes his bookcase peculiarly. Good, he was still. Rory approached again, eyes looking around for something to restrain the Timelord.

"Doctor, what planet did you just visit? Were there any strange creatures?" Rory quizzed, like he would with a patient's medical history.

"I'm over nine hundred years old, and I still confuse my Beethoven with my Mozart! Despicable!"

Rory's eyes narrowed as the Doctor's effervescent high began to sink to a depressing low. His movements were more sluggish, his eyes dull, his shoulders sagging. It was as if a great sadness had overtaken his previously excited form. This was a stark foil to his character just moments before.

"Doctor, are you alright?"

"Despicable, I am utterly despicable…"

"Don't say that."

"Look how many lives have perished because of me," he sighed, trudging up the steps to his console, Rory close behind. He knew now was the time to properly restrain and examine the Doctor, but the Timelord was just opening up about his past. This was a rare occurrence on the TARDIS, and it could help him with his medical history after all.

"Rose, Donna, Martha, Captain Jack, River, Amy-"

"Amy?!" Rory intervened, "What happens to Amy?!"

"The Little Girl Who Waited...and I kept her waiting for so long!"

Rory realized the Doctor wasn't talking to him. He was stuck in his past memories, feeling the guilt when he left the young Amy in her backyard for so long.

"That was long ago, Doctor, she's safe now. She's with you."

Rory heard something drip to the floor. He looked around. There were never any leaks in the TARDIS.

A red drop pooled on the ground by the Doctor's shoes, unmistakably blood. Rory's eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat.

"Doctor, you're hurt!" Rory raced up the console steps, but the Doctor turned on him, his eyes ferocious with anger. Rory stopped dead in his tracks, wanting to shrink under the Timelord's heavy glare.

"Back, stay back!" he growled, "You can't have her!"

"Who, Doctor? Can't have who?!" Rory tried to understand what time period the Doctor was immersed in now, "You're hurt, you need medical attention!"

"You dare take her from me? You fiendish creatures, you miserable Daleks!"

"Daleks?" Rory recalled a Dalek invasion that separated the Doctor and one of his old companions...something having to do with a rose.

The Doctor shook his head, like he was snapping out of his trance. He blinked twice, looking around the console room as he gathered his bearings.

"Doctor?" Rory asked carefully, hoping he wouldn't trigger another wild memory.

"Rory?" he sounded normal, calm, "What are you doing cowering down there like a frightened cat?"

"A-are you alright?"

"Of course I am," he sniffed, fixing his collar before he turned to the console.

Rory took a step closer to the Doctor, "Feeling perfectly perfect?"

"Well, if you insist upon that, then yes I do!" he said with his usual gusto. His behavior was no longer maniacal, sluggish, or enraged. He seemed like the normal Doctor, except Rory saw a drop of blood. Something was definitely wrong. He couldn't tell the Doctor he was bleeding, that might trigger another episode.

"Doctor, are you feeling a little ill?"

"No," he glanced over his shoulder at Rory, brows furrowed, "Why would you suggest that?"

"Nothing, it's just you look a little pale. Do you mind sitting down for a second, so I can give you a clean bill of health?"

"Rory, I appreciate the concern, but I've been managing myself for a few centuries now. I am fine, thank you."

"Doctor, sit down," Rory said a little more forcefully.

"Rory?"

"Sit," he took a step closer, cornering him against the console.

"Where is this coming from, Rory?" the Doctor's full attention was on him. That could either be good or bad.

"You're unwell."

"No, I assure you I am fine."

"Assure all you'd like, you had an episode."

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did. You can't remember?"

A flash of worry crossed the Doctor's face. His eyes darted across the floor, trying to recall the last few minutes, "N-no, but I-"

"I need to examine you, Doctor, please sit. It makes this easier."

"Rory, enough of this!" the Doctor scoffed as he turned around, away from Rory, "I assure you, I am perfectly fine!"

The Doctor collapsed. Rory saw his legs buckle underneath him and he lunged forward to catch the crumpling man. Rory's strong hands caught the Doctor's underarms as the Timelord's head hit his chest, eyes closed. Panicked, the nurse dragged the grown man in his arms towards the railing. Rory rested against the metal bar, trying to collect the unconscious alien. His palm felt the Doctor's forehead. It was burning hot, hotter than a human could handle.

"AMY!" Rory called frantically as the Last of the Time Lords lay listless in his arms.

 **Next chapter coming soon! Leave me a fav/follow/review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to my favorites/followers/reviewers! Means so much to me! Enjoy Chapter 2!**

"How is he?"

"I don't know, he's still unconscious."

"Is he going to live?"

"I'll know once I've examined him."

The Doctor groaned as Amy and Rory's conversation penetrated his fuzzy senses.

"Doctor? Doctor, are you alright?" Amy's voice hovered above him.

He opened his eyes to see Amy and Rory's worried expressions directly in his line of vision. The familiar grate of the TARDIS floor scraped against his back and he saw the remarkable engines churning above him.

"Doctor!" he heard Amy's persistent voice again.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," he winced as he sat upright. Rory held his arm for stability, a motion which he was grateful for.

"What happened?" Amy looked from the Doctor to her husband, "Rory?"

The Doctor looked to Rory as well, eager to hear the answer to the question.

"Doctor, you had a strange reaction to something, a behavioral episode. Then, you suddenly cleared up and collapsed. I barely caught you."

"I remember that bit," he mumbled as he prepared to stand, "no problem now. All better!"

He pushed himself up with his legs.

"Doctor, no-"

The minute he was standing on both legs, the world teetered to the left. His legs gave out from underneath him and he went toppling forward, right into Amy and Rory.

The Doctor shook his head, irritated at the situation and his body's betrayal.

"Doctor, I told you not to!" Rory objected.

"Just a little vertigo is all," he grumbled, "on account of my earlier fall."

"Or on account of something much more dangerous!"

"Nonsense!"

"Rory, what are his symptoms?" Amy looked at her husband.

"Symptoms?" the Doctor scoffed, "I am not ill!"

"Yes you are," she leveled him with a hefty glare, "don't argue. Stay put."

He promptly stayed still, his body leaning against the rail. The cool metal felt delightful on his burning skin...

"He's dizzy, unable to stand, feverish, and experiencing brief lapses of delusion," Rory spoke quietly to his wife, "there are all types of viruses his symptoms could fit, but I don't know if these human ailments can affect him."

"There has to be a book or something around here," Amy gazed at the walls, "something on Timelord anatomy or a 'How To' guide."

"Doubtful," Rory huffed, rubbing his neck with a sweaty palm, "right now, he needs to rest. We have to take him to his bedroom where he can properly get some sleep."

"Yeah, not keep fainting all over the floors," Amy mumbled. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the Doctor's fierce opposition to what she was about to propose, "Okay, Doctor, Rory and I are going to get you to bed. You need to rest for a few hours, so he can-"

She stopped short. Rory followed her gaze to the Doctor's still form against the railing. His eyes were closed, his head tilted to the left. His skin looked pale and clammy, his usually neat clothing all wrinkled and scuffed.

"Doctor?" Rory took a knee next to him.

"Rory, what's happening?" Amy felt her heart flutter, "Did he pass out? What?"

"I don't know," Rory placed two fingers at the Doctor's neck to feel for a pulse. There was something there, but he had to make sure both hearts were working. He placed his ear against the Doctor's chest. The right heart was working. He maneuvered his way to the left. No heartbeat, "Oh, God in Heaven, don't do this to me."

"What?" Amy pressed urgently, "What!?"

"His left heart isn't beating."

"What do you mean it's not _beating?_ " the red-haired Scot sounded outraged.

"I mean it just like that," Rory tried to remain calm, "look, we've got to talk him somewhere safe. There's not much I know about the Doctor, but I know he and the TARDIS share some weird, metaphysical link. If the Doctor is ill, then that might hinder the TARDIS' security measures. If some alien creature trespasses looking for the Doctor and kidnaps him in this state, then the universe is over as we know it."

"We can protect him," Amy stood tall.

"I admire your courage," Rory sighed, "but what are two humans from England going to do against an army of alien creatures looking for the most precious being in the entire universe," his eyes traveled to the Doctor.

"Where do we go?"

"Let's find his bedroom first. There has to be something in there, a map or guide of some kind to this ship," Rory thought, "and the TARDIS will pick up on his condition any minute. If it knows the Doctor is unwell, then maybe it can give us some protection by keeping the hallways and rooms moving to avert any attackers."

"Alright then, Mr. Williams," Amy bent over and grabbed the Doctor's ankles, "you grab his arms, I have his legs. Let's get him to his bedroom before some alien death ship comes knocking at the front door."

 **Chapter 3 coming soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to my favorites/followers/reviewers! Enjoy!**

"I think this is it," Amy huffed as she looked up at yet another door. She and Rory had been lugging the Doctor's unconscious body all over the TARDIS in desperate search for his bedroom. That _alone_ was an impossible task, because the Doctor rarely ever slept. He was always awake before she was and after she went to sleep. In fact, in all of her years on the time machine, she never even bothered to ask him if he even _had_ a bedroom (a fact that could have gone a long way in this situation).

They struggled down hallway after hallway, finding absurd rooms. One was the library, with, of course, a thirty foot long swimming pool in the center of it. Another was an entirely Christmas themed room, another was a plain white room with no furniture except one banana in the center of it. Completely absurd.

This door, however, seemed like the right one. The hallways were all a shade of deep royal blue, but this one looked older. The wood bordering the doorway was splintering, a sign of its age. The doorknob was a shimmering gold, and there seemed to be an unearthly aura radiating from the room. It seemed as old as the TARDIS itself.

"I think you're right," Rory squinted, observing the door, "do-do you feel that? Or is it just me?"

"A weird vibe," she nodded, "like, it's alien."

"Well, technically, the entire ship is."

"But this even more so," she shook her head, "I don't know, something about it is so...Doctorish."

"Well, typically a bedroom is the closest embodiment of a person, a kind of visual representation of him or herself. If this is the Doctor's bedroom - which I assume it is - then of course there's going to be a stronger connection to him."

"We'd better hurry," Amy pursed her lips as she looked down at the Doctor's sickly pallor, "he's not looking good."

"Come on," Rory picked up his arms again, "let's try this out."

Amy carefully opened the door and peeked inside. She gasped in awe.

The room was incredible. It utilized traditional TARDIS logic - bigger on the inside.

Twenty foot tall ceilings loomed above her, and the ceiling wasn't even a ceiling at all. It could've been a projection or a clear glass dome, but it had a stunning view of an unknown galaxy. Little blinking stars twinkled in the sky, and every second a meteor passed, or a shooting star gleamed in the distance. Colorful nebulas glimmered in the black expanse, and right now there was the view of an absolutely gorgeous purple planet. It was nothing known to humankind, probably in a different galaxy altogether, but it was purple and small as planets go. Lavender wisps dotted the surface of the violet planet, and three moons orbited the planet's body. One moon was white, the other silver, and the other yellow.

"Oh my," Amy marvelled, her eyes entranced in the view, "Rory, you have to see this."

Rory struggled with the Doctor's lanky upper body, "Amy," he grunted, "maybe we can move it inside? My-my arms are cramping up."

Right. She grabbed the Doctor's ankles and trudged inside. Rory's forehead beaded with sweat. His eyes travelled up to the ceiling and he almost dropped the Doctor.

"Rory!"

"I'm-I'm sorry," he stammered, "but...that is...wow."

"Come on, there's the bed."

Rory's eyes widened even more when he saw the bed. It was a deluxe king size bed lined with dark blue satin sheets and pillows. A blue velvet throw lay tastefully on the mattress. The headboard was navy blue with beautiful carvings in an unfamiliar language - probably the native language of Gallifrey.

"Up we go," Amy grunted as she wrestled with the Doctor's legs as Rory tried maneuvering his arms. They finally placed him flat on the mattress, but both were left puffing, out of breath. The moment he hit the bed, the Doctor let out a relieved breath in his unconscious state. His muscles seemed to relax and some color returned to his face.

"Look," Amy tapped Rory's arm, "he seems a bit better."

"I don't doubt it," Rory looked up again, "this place is like his core, the strongest part of him. I'm sure it resonates within him in some weird Timelord connection."

"Come on, we don't have a lot of time. You examine him, I'll try to find some sort of book or guide to help us out."

Rory nodded at the plan. He approached the Doctor's still form on the bed as Amy took a tour of the large bedroom.

The room was spacious. Amy and Rory shared a nice suite, but this was three times the size of a regular master bedroom. There was a bed towards the back wall, a workshop towards the right, an enormous closet to the left, and small stations where the Doctor tinkered. One table had an endless array of maps and star charts of foreign planets and galaxies. Another had spare parts, presumably for the TARDIS. Amy admired the beautiful set and how it was all so the Doctor. This room was exactly him, like they had taken a step into his mind in bedroom form.

Finally, she saw the Doctor's personal library. There was a plush leather chair with a floating light. Seriously, it was a floating orb about five feet off the ground that shimmered with a dim white light, but was a perfect reading lamp. Behind the chair were three large bookcases. Amy raced over and felt the spines of the books with her fingertips.

"They're all in Gallifreyan!" She shouted over to Rory.

"Look at the pictures inside then!"

She grumbled under her breath and grabbed the first book.

"Okay, Doctor," Rory huffed as he looked at the unconscious Timelord, "let's see what's wrong with you." He remembered the Doctor was bleeding.

Carefully, Rory pulled aside the Doctor's tweed coat. His right abdomen looked good, no blood. Same with the left. This was his patient, not his friend. His patient, not his friend. Patient, not friend…

Truth be told, Rory was worried. His heart clenched every time he examined a different part of the Doctor's body, fearing he'd see some fatal wound that would finally claim the Doctor's long life. Rory checked his legs, back of the knees, ankles, nothing. He lifted his head gently and saw no wound. He gingerly lifted his upper body in a sitting position but saw no marks on the back of his jacket.

Then he saw it. It was his right arm. Rory felt a rush of cold dread plunge through him as he lifted the arm. Blood stained the bed sheets. The nurse started to roll up the coat sleeve, but the Doctor winced in his state.

"Amy!"

"Still looking!" She returned.

"No, I need your help."

She came over, "Did you find out what's wrong-"

Her eyes widened and she gasped. All she saw was blood and Rory's worried expression.

"I need you to help me remove his coat," he explained, "he's got a wound on his right forearm, but I don't know the severity of it. We have to be careful to make sure we don't injure him further."

She nodded slightly, face as pale as the Doctor's. With trembling hands, she grabbed the fabric. Rory placed his warm ones on hers and tried to calm her down.

"It's okay, he's going to be fine."

"No, Rory, it's the plant. The Sonoflulops."

"Gazoontight."

"No!" she cried, "we just left the planet Sonofluilla, and the native species is the Sonoflulops. They're extremely poisonous."

Rory's jaw dropped, "Poison!?"

She nodded grimly.

"Okay, okay, this is definitely not good, but we're going to work through it. The Doctor is going to be fine, keep telling yourself that. If he's survived for over 900 years, then he can certainly survive this. Now, I don't know how long the poison has been in his system, or what kind of poison it is. One of his hearts is not beating and I didn't exactly read up on how to restart a Timelord's system in nursing school. Now, we're in a bedroom we had no idea existed, and have no clue about the anatomy of the Doctor. That's wonderful. Any luck with the book?"

"Nothing yet, I'll keep looking."

"Amy, we have to hurry."

"I know, I know, I know!" She slammed the bookshelf, "this is all so stupid! Why did he have to get stung?! Why him?! All he does is good in this universe and this is how he's repaid?! And this stupid ship!" Amy turned in a circle, yelling at the TARDIS walls, "it's supposed to be _connected_ to him or something, and it so far hasn't done anything to help!"

Something crashed to the floor behind her. Amy and Rory both jumped. She turned slowly and saw an empty slot on the bookshelf. A book lay on the ground. Amy moved closer. It was a thick book with a blue leather cover the same color as the TARDIS exterior. The pages were a shining golden, and the inscription was the same color. The gold however seemed alive, like the metal had been liquidated and carefully inscribed in the leather, still churning. Amy bent down and picked it up with both hands.

"Amy, what is it?" Rory asked.

"This is it," she turned, a smile forming on her lips, "this is it, Rory. The TARDIS, she-she showed us."

"What?"

Amy turned the book around so the cover was facing Rory. He squinted to read the label, then his jaw dropped.

The title read: **THE HISTORY OF THE TIMELORDS**

 **Chapter 3 coming soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's Chapter 4! Enjoy!**

"Hello?" Rory called out into the dim console room. The normal whir of the engines echoed through the chamber, but they sounded more strained and creakier. The groaning of the large machine almost sounded like a tired moan, just as sick as the Doctor.

Rory took a step forward. He looked from side to side, trying to identify the source of the knocking. The colorful lights of the console continued to blink by, but the room seemed sadly empty and cold without the excited presence of the Doctor.

 _Bang, bang, bang!_

Rory jumped. The sound was coming from the front door of the TARDIS.

Yes, it was technically a police box with a _door,_ but nobody ever used it! It was not like aliens came knocking on the door everyday. Only Amy, Rory, and the Doctor used it to run inside and out during life-threatening danger (which was often).

There were no weapons on the TARDIS, the Doctor vehemently forbade them. He believed the greatest weapon a person could have was the mind, quick wits, and cleverness. What could he do? There was a wrench in a crate under the console which the Doctor used to fix the engines from time to time. He grabbed that.

Rory tried to look at the monitor that displayed the view outside of the TARDIS. It was full of static, probably the doing of the creatures outside.

 _Bang, bang, bang!_

Rory saw a grease-stained towel lying on the floor next to the crate. He grabbed that too, muffled voices echoing through the walls.

The nurse approached the door slowly, his "weapons" in hand. Nothing was supposed to be able the penetrate the TARDIS walls unless the Doctor permitted it. Rory's eyes widened when he saw the condition of the wooden door. It was splintering, small cracks running up and down the foundations.

Not good.

A few more big hits, and the door would give way to whatever sinister thing was waiting outside.

He ran back towards the console, formulating a plan.

Amy tried to control her breathing.

She sat on the edge of the Doctor's bed, but refused to look at him. She didn't want to see him in this state, powerless and sick. It was as if someone drained all of the spunk from his body. This was not her Doctor, just a shell of him.

She patted his leg, trying to fight back tears.

The loud banging still echoed through the TARDIS and Rory's words rang through her ears. She was torn between running outside and helping him, but she couldn't leave the Doctor. Amy had to trust her husband would be alright.

And he was counting on her.

She took a deep breath and turned her head to face the unconscious Timelord.

Her heart tore once again. Amy picked up the book the TARDIS miraculously produced for her. She began flipping through the pages. This was an _incredibly_ valuable book. _The History of the Timelords_? Just a few pages could change the fate of the future.

"Okay, okay," she calmed herself, "Chapter One: The Birth of Gallifrey."

The book was translating the ancient Gallifreyan to English for her, typical Timelord magic. As much as she wanted to read the origin story of the Doctor and his home planet, there were more pressing matters. Amy flipped through the chapters, her eyes desperately scanning the headings for something useful.

"Aha!" she cried out and opened Chapter 43, "Timelord Anatomy!"

There was an illustration that greatly resembled that of the "Vitruvian Man", except the drawing was slightly transparent to show two hearts instead of one. Amy was almost positive that the Timelords must've had an influence on Leonardo Da Vinci. If they reached Van Gogh, then Da Vinci must've been on their list.

There was nothing on poison!

She growled in frustration and threw the book across the room, yet instantly regretted it. The book was nearly as old as time itself and here she was tossing it around a bedroom like it was a lego. Amy moved to pick it up, but the previously empty slot on the bookshelf was filled. The book magically re-inserted itself into its original spot. It must've been the TARDIS. The book was comprised by the same people who made the time machine, it must've had some sort of attachment to it.

She heard some noise behind her, struggled breathing.

Amy whipped around to see the Doctor. His fists clenched the sheets tightly. He tossed his head from side to side. His brow was furrowed with a fearful expression. His pale face accentuated the scary dark circles under his eyes.

"Doctor!" she ran forward, shaking his shoulders, "Doctor, are you alright?! Wake up, please wake up!"

No response. He kept up with the head tossing and struggling movements. His chest rose and fell rapidly, Amy was afraid his second heart would give out. She moved to his arm and rolled up the sleeve. Upon seeing the wound, she almost passed out.

The cut itself was red and swollen, some blood still leaking from Rory's hastily applied bandages. But now, black veins curled and protruded from around the cut and crawled up his forearm. There was no doubt they would spread to consume his entire body.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" the Doctor breathed, his tone was heartbreaking, "forgive me, please!"

"Doctor!" Amy cried, "It's just a nightmare, please wake up! I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do!"

Her pleas reached deaf ears.

"What do I do?" she gasped, fighting herself. The loud banging still echoed within her ears, that meant Rory was still probably alive and well. He was out there risking his life, fighting some unknown creature, and here she was as helpful as a thumbtack, "Come on, Amy, buck up," she willed herself to be stronger.

"Listen up!" she yelled towards the TARDIS walls once more, "He's dying and I don't know what to do!" Amy pointed to the struggling Timelord on the bed, "The book you gave me was no use, so please! I need your help! Show me how to stop the poison, show me how to fix him!"

A terribly loud groaning echoed through the machine - it was the TARDIS. She was struggling, she was just as weak as the Doctor and she was doing her best to keep the aliens outside of her walls from Rory, Amy, and the Doctor. Yet, the machine heard Amy's plea.

Amy dropped to her knees instinctively, covering her ears and squinting her eyes as the loud, metallic screeching blared through the entire time machine.

The Doctor reacted too. Because of their connection, the TARDIS was partly draining the Doctor of his last remnants of energy. His breathing hitched and a loud, painful yell left him. His back arched off the bed and he was glowing with a yellow aura.

"Doctor!" Amy cried.

Was the TARDIS killing him?

In just a few seconds, he dropped back on the bed. Sweat beaded his forehead, and he went limp. No more nightmares plagued him, but he looked dead. Amy slightly wished the nightmares returned, at least they were some indication he was alive.

Another book fell across the room. Amy ran over, silently thanking the TARDIS and the Doctor. It was not as elaborately bound as the other book. In fact, this one looked more like a journal. It was still the same deep royal blue as the TARDIS, but some papers and notes peaked out of the lined pages, and a simple title was written with golden ink.

" **THE DOCTOR'S PERSONAL RECORDS"**

Chapter 5 coming soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**_Here's chapter 5! Enjoy!_**

 _BAM!_

The TARDIS door flew open with such fervor it almost unlatched from its hinges. Rory tried to calm his breath from the corner he was hiding in, his eyes barely peeking past a piece of machinery to get a glimpse of the creatures outside.

"THIS IS IT!" A deep voice bellowed.

Rory felt goosebumps line his skin. The voice was heavy and grating, the speaker clearly not human.

"BROTHERS, THIS WAY! WE HAVE LOCATED THE TIMELORD WHO CALLS HIMSELF THE DOCTOR!"

Any hope Rory had that the aliens would be kind, helpful, welcoming aliens immediately dissipated. That's what you got with the Doctor, lots and lots of enemies. The first creature crossed the threshold.

It was taller than a human, covered in scales the same color as blood. Rory gulped, trying to not let his mouth drop in fear and shock. It's eyes were black with red irises and it had white fangs for teeth. Creepily enough, a full golden helmet with horns covered its scaly skull. It wore a long red velvet robe that swept the floor with grandeur, like it was a king of some sort. It held a golden staff encrusted with jewels and other spoils; the object was nearly as tall as the creature itself.

Four more of the creatures entered through the blue doors, except they weren't dressed as elaborately as the first. They wore robes, but they were black and made of wool instead of velvet. They didn't wear helmets or carried staffs, but they had long swords at their belts and other frightening weapons ready for their use.

Rory looked down at his greasy towel and pitiful wrench.

These were his tools of destruction. Great.

He had to close the door, they were vulnerable with the TARDIS open for the taking and the Doctor out of commission. Any alien could waltz on in and destroy the universe with the Timelord technology. He had to wait for the creatures to move out of the console room, to go searching for the Doctor as they planned, but that would put Amy and the Doctor possibly in their path. It took him and Amy a few hours to find his bedroom, he was hoping the TARDIS was using its last bit of energy to shield them.

The red aliens admired the high ceilings and glowing technology of the console roo, but the room seemed shaggier. The lights were dimmer and there was an awful low groaning that echoed throughout the room every time the engines revolved.

Rory took a deep breath and closed his eyes, praying to whatever being that would listen. His fingers clenched the towel fabric tightly, but he looked at the wrench. He couldn't just run out there blindly and have the aliens kill him, but he needed to distract the things.

The five creatures started towards the main console, looking at the millions of buttons and trying to make sense out of them. Rory had been on this ship long enough and he didn't even understand them. Their focus was on the console, some of the armed aliens moving to the dark hallways to check if the Doctor was lurking in one of them.

These creatures were scared of him. Time to scare them a bit more.

Rory played little league a bit when he was a kid, so he hoped his aim and his throwing arm didn't fail him now.

He hurled the metal wrench across the room. The tool made contact with the edge of the TARDIS' door and it went flying shut with a loud, wooden slam.

The aliens hissed and jump in alarm. Two of black-robed creatures dove in front of the red-robed one, protecting them with their swords, while the two-others ventured ahead with their own swords drawn.

Their distraction provided a key opportunity for Rory to take action. He silently ran to the floor below the console, where the Doctor fiddled with the engine from time to time when it started acting up. The aliens didn't notice.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" bellowed the red-robbed one, "SHOW YOURSELF, DOCTOR!"

If only they knew.

This was how he would outplay them, through clever wits and some cheap special effects. Here he was, a nurse from England, and now he was fighting for alien creatures in the middle of a time machine belonging to a 2,000 year old Timelord. His days were never easy.

"RETRIEVE IT!"

They probably located his wrench.

"WHAT IS THIS? SOME PLAYTHING OF THE DOCTOR?" growled the red-robbed one as he threw the wrench across the floor, "THE SYCORAX WILL NOT BE IGNORED, DOCTOR! SHOW YOURSELF!"

The Sycorax, oh the Sycorax.

Rory remembered them. A few years back, The Christmas Invasion. The planet was flooded with alien warships, mind-controlled citizens from around the world stood on roof ledges waiting to jump, and the Doctor managed to stop them.

No wonder they still held a grudge.

 **Chapter 6 coming soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the next chapter! Thank you for all of the love and support!**

Amy flipped through the pages of the Doctor's personal records fervently. This was the TARDIS' last offering, it had to hold the answer to their problems. The Doctor was getting worse by the minute. His fever was skyrocketing, his labored breathing turned to heavy gasps, his skin was a deathly grey color, and black veins crawled up and down his body. Some were peaking past his suit collar up his neck. The moment the poison reached his brain, he would be gone forever…

The only reason he was still alive now, was because he was a Time Lord. His enhanced physiology was battling the poison to the best of its ability. There was always the "regeneration" he spoke of, but the poison could possibly leave his future selves with permanent damage.

Amy read unfamiliar names like Donna Noble, Wilfred Mott, Captain Jack Harkness, Martha Jones, The Master, and Jackie and Rose Tyler in the notes and numerous chapters. The journal was probably one of the most valuable, priceless objects in the universe. Not only did it detail the Doctor's many travels, it gave a glimpse into his personal life, his strengths, his weaknesses. If the journal fell into the hands of the wrong party, then the Doctor could be ruined. Amy noticed photographs stuffed between the pages. Some of an older woman with bright red hair and a smug smile, another with a handsome man with jet black hair and a long Civil War era coat, and another with a young blonde girl smiling beside a tall, lanky man wearing a brown pinstripe suit with white high top converse.

 _Not important,_ Amy thought as she kept flipping through the pages, her heart fluttering with every beat.

Finally, the word "poison" showed between her rapid skimming. Amy stopped at the page and looked at the title. The chapter was labeled "The Unicorn and the Wasp".

" _I as_ _sisted Agatha_ _Christie in solving the case of the giant wasp and the devious jewel thief known as 'The Unicorn' the night before she disappeare_ d," Amy read the Doctor's notes. She gaped at the sentence she just said aloud, then looked at the bed, "You've met Agatha Christie!?"

 _Focus, Amy, focus._

" _I sipped a drink provided by the manor's staff, but something was inhibiting my enzymes. Poison. I rushed to the kitchen, knowing exactly what had to be do_ ne," Amy felt her body swell with joy, "This is it, I've found it!"

Amy rushed out of the bedroom doors, not caring if any alien creature was there at the doorway waiting for her. She grabbed a key off of the counter and closed the door behind her. She stuffed the key into the lock and felt the lock click. She took a few steps back and suddenly noticed the door start to fade, like it was blending into the walls. Thank the TARDIS! She was camouflaging the room!

Amy rushed down the wide corridors, hearing distant yells from the heart of the TARDIS. God, she hoped Rory was alright.

The kitchen, she needed to get to the kitchen. Amy stood at a crossroads, one path took her right, the other left. She looked down the hallways. She didn't have time to deal with this now! Suppose she took the wrong hallway down, then the poison would kill the Doctor because she was trying to locate the kitchen all this time!

Suddenly, blue lights started to shine down the right hallway. Amy didn't question it, this was her only sign. She sprinted down the corridor as fast as she could, clutching the journal tightly in her hands.

She saw a door down the hall. Amy burst through and found herself in the kitchen. Her breaths were coming in gasps as she looked frantically at the cupboards. The kitchen was enormous, like it belonged at a five-star restaurant in France! There were cooking stations, massive refrigerators and freezers, wall-to-wall stoves and friers, a produce room, and so many more amazing qualities. It was a chef's paradise in here!

Amy opened the journal back up and kept reading from the records, " _When I began to feel the poison course through my system, I knew it was cyanide. Upon reaching the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of ginger beer and drank it fervently, dousing my body with the substance for extra measure."_

"Ginger beer!" Amy cried as she ran towards the refrigerator. She threw the doors open and stepped back at the sheer number of contents encased within. There were bottles upon cans upon cartons upon cases of beverages. Luckily, they were alphabetized. Amy located a large bottle of ginger beer and snatched it off the shelf. She kept reading.

" _The next step required protein. Donna cleverly offered me walnuts as a source of the molecule."_

"Walnuts!" Amy turned in circles, until she found a rack filled with an assortments of nuts, beans, rice, and berries. She found the walnuts in a container next to the almonds and chickpeas.

" _Next was an item with a rather profound percentage of sodium. I needed something salty, but not direct salt (as that is too salty)."_

"Too salty!" Amy cried indignantly, but kept reading.

" _Agatha so brilliantly provided me with a jar of anchovies."_

"Anchovies!" the Scot ran to the pantry and skimmed the shelves. She found a jar of them hiding in the back.

Amy grabbed the items in her hands and juggled them with the journal. She ran out of the kitchen and raced back down the hall towards the Doctor's hidden bedroom. Amy pulled the key from her pocket and immediately the door began to rematerialize on the wall. She turned the knob and entered the room. The Doctor, however, looked worse. Black tendrils were climbing up his cheek now, and he no longer struggled or groaned in his sleep. He looked properly dead. She scattered the contents from the kitchen on the bed and kept the journal handy.

"Ginger beer!" she popped off the cap and began to drench the Doctor's clothes with the liquid. When his suit was drenched with the substance, she pressed the rim of the bottle against the Doctor's lips, forcing the drink to go down his throat.

She pulled away once she felt the Doctor cough. He wasn't awake yet, but at least some of his reflexes were reacting to the ingredients.

"Walnuts!" she popped off the lid of the container and cracked the shells in her hands. Amy stuffed the food in between his lips, and covered his mouth and nose until he was forced to swallow.

His eyes fluttered slightly and his limbs were starting to move in protest of Amy's onslaught. She progressed.

"Anchovies!" Amy opened the can and grabbed a handful. She stuffed them in the Doctor's mouth, holding his nose and mouth again so he could swallow. Her cheeks were wet, she didn't realize she was crying.

When she was sure the Doctor had swallowed the anchovies, she sat back. Her hands were clasped tightly together, silently praying for him to recover. The Doctor coughed and choked, and his body slightly arched off the bed, but a few moments later he fell limply back upon the mattress.

"What?" Amy felt her heart rate quicken, "What? It's not working! Why is it not working!?"

She reached for the journal and angrily skimmed the lines again, "Ginger beer, yes! Walnuts, yes! Anchovies, yes! But, what else-"

" _The final ingredient was a shock, and Donna definitely fulfilled that need with an unexpected kiss. I can only say that I was indeed quite surprised by this reaction; however, her resourcefulness saved my life as my body expelled the poison within."_

"Oh," Amy put down the book. She looked from side to side for something that she could use to "shock" the Doctor. Some small fireworks lying around? Maybe a pot and pan she can bang around? Nothing. This was life and death, there was no time to experiment with homemade methods. There, in the book, it was proven that….a kiss would work.

Amy looked up at the TARDIS' ceiling, silently praying Rory didn't spontaneously walk in the room for what she was about to do. Amy took a deep breath, looked down at the Doctor's pale face, and leaned in.

Her lips collided with his. She closed her eyes tightly, cursing every second that passed. She was a married woman, yet here she was kissing another man - an alien man at that.

 _Come on, come on!_ She willed, _Just work already!_

Then it happened. The Doctor's eyes shot open. He looked at Amy right in front of him and he shouted in alarm. He pushed her back slightly as she scrambled off of him, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. He didn't have time to react as his back arched and his head hit the pillow. A billowing cloud of white smoke puffed out of his mouth, the poison in an airborne form leaving his body.

He gasped and fell back on the bed, staring at the image of the purple planet above him. His chest rose and fell heavily, but Amy noticed the black veins that stretched across his neck slowly recede back towards his arm. Her mouth dropped in relief when she pulled up the Doctor's sleeve to see an angry looking sting from the Sonoflulops, but nothing as fatally dangerous as just a few moments ago. Rory could clean that up and bandage it in a jiffy.

"Doctor?" Amy carefully crept to his side, her red waves falling down her shoulders.

"Amy?" he looked at her, eyes squinting against the light. He sounded confused, "What's going on? Am I in my bedroom?"

"Yes," she responded, relief flooding into her voice. She laughed tiredly and sat down on the edge of the mattress heavily. Exhaustion flowed into her limbs now that she could see the Doctor was much better, "Rory and I brought you here."

"Why?" he sat upright a little dizzily, but he regained himself, "What's happened?"

 _Bang! Bang!"_

A distant shout echoed through the halls, "SHOW YOURSELF, DOCTOR! WE WILL FIND YOU AND FINALLY SEEK OUR REVENGE!"

"Oh, no," the Doctor whispered to himself, looking at the door with a serious expression.

"Rory," Amy felt fresh tears gather, "he-he's out there, he was trying to buy time so they wouldn't get to you."

The Doctor whipped his head around and stared at Amy in slight horror, but his expression then deepened into one of rarely expressed rage. His fists clenched and his eyes darted across the floor, trying to formulate a plan. He was still a little sluggish, trying to regather himself, but this was a dire moment.

Someone trespassed onto his ship.

"Amy," the Doctor said in an unwavering voice filled with silent fury, "please grab my screwdriver off of the table. It's time I see who's on my ship."

 **Final chapter coming soon!**


	7. Chapter 7

**The final chapter! Enjoy!**

"COME OUT, COME OUT, SNEAKY DOCTOR!"

Rory felt sweat bead on his forehead. So far, he had thrown a wrench at the door, played with the lights on the main console, and hid behind railings in trying to distract the Sycorax. He was running out of ideas. The aliens were ready to branch out, to explore the TARDIS. He believed they were starting to see through his ruse and believe that greater prospects of finding the Doctor were away from the main console and deeper into the machine's depths.

"ENOUGH OF THESE GAMES!" the head Sycorax shouted, "BROTHERS, LET US GO FORTH! DEEPER INTO THE DOCTOR'S INFERNAL MACHINE! LET US FIND HIM AND KILL HIM TO RESTORE OUR HONOR!"

 _No, no!_ Rory thought as he saw the creatures slowly make their way towards the corridor that led them to the back rooms. He had to do something! He couldn't leave Amy and the Doctor unprotected!

He jumped out of his hiding spot, "No, wait! Stop!"

The creatures turned their heads to him in unison.

Now, Rory was just standing there facing a few red, scaly aliens and he had no idea what he was going to do next. He wondered why situations like these always fell on his shoulders.

"WHO," the Sycoraxian leader hissed at him, "ARE YOU, PESKY HUMAN?"

"Uh, hi," he shuffled his feet, his fist clenching the greasy towel tightly, "I-I'm Rory, Rory Williams from Leadworth."

"LEADWORTH?"

"My hometown. It-it's in England."

"QUIET, HUMAN."

Rory gulped.

"YOU MAKE ONE MORE SOUND OR MOVEMENT AND MY SOLDIERS WILL ATTACK MERCILESSLY!"

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but you cannot be here. My-my friend will not appreciate it."

"YOUR FRIEND?"

"The owner of this ship."

"THE MAN WHO CALLS HIMSELF THE DOCTOR?"

"Uh-"

"RETRIEVE THE HUMAN FOR ME," the master ordered his soldiers.

Rory tried backing away, but the two black-robbed soldiers were faster. They seized him by his arms and pulled him towards Red Robe.

"YOU KNOW THIS DOCTOR?"

"Me? Oh-oh, no, no. I mean-hardly, not really-"

"QUIET."

Rory stayed silent.

"TELL ME WHERE THIS DOCTOR IS."

"No."

"TELL ME WHERE THIS DOCTOR IS!"

"No."

The leader raised his staff. A sharp blade elongated from the end and he held the razor edge against Rory's neck. Rory gulped and closed his eyes.

"THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING, HUMAN!"

"I love you Amy!"

"YOU DARE DEFY THE ORDERS OF THE SYCORAXIAN KING?"

"Just don't hurt her!"

"WHERE IS THE DOCTOR!?"

"Right here."

All heads turned towards the console.

There he was, in appropriate suit and bowtie, the Doctor.

Rory gasped in relief.

"DOCTOR!" the Sycorax King bellowed.

"Shush," the Timelord spoke.

"EXCUSE ME?"

"You are excused."

The King was speechless. The Doctor, looking rather nonchalant, leaned against the railing, playing with his sonic screwdriver in between his fingertips. It was as if he didn't realize or care he was facing an alien king.

"No, I have one question, and one demand. You will answer to them both," the Doctor delivered an icy glare.

"YOU ARE IN NO POSITION FOR NEGOTIATION!"

" _I_ am in no position?!" the Doctor laughed, "You are in _my_ ship!"

The King didn't respond.

"Nothing to say then, eh?" the Doctor resumed his frosty tone, "Now for my demand. Let Rory go."

The Sycorax didn't move.

"I said, _let him go."_

The black-robbed Sycroax licked their lips and turned to their King who was staring down the Doctor. After a few moments, the alien turned away and nodded slightly. Rory was pushed to the ground, but he was free. He regained his footing and walked to the Doctor's side.

The Timelord exchanged quick words with him, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I think so."

"Good. Amy is inside. Stay there, I'm almost finished."

"But Doctor-"

"Go, Rory. You've done much more than I could've asked you for. Thank you, you are a true friend."

"Of course," he dipped his head.

"Go by Amy. She needs you."

"Right."

Rory peeled away from the Doctor's side and entered the mouth of the corridor. He pressed himself against the edge, watching the Doctor. He loved Amy, she was his wife, but he had to make sure the Doctor wasn't killed so they don't come after they unexpectedly. Rory watched, a silent observer of one King of the Sycorax and one Lord of Time.

"DOCTOR!" the Sycorax King broke the silence, "YOU HAVE HUMILIATED MY PREDECESSOR, MY PEOPLE, AND I! I CANNOT STAND WHILE YOU ROAM THE UNIVERSE. OUR PEOPLE LIVE IN SHAME!"

"Ah, yes, but do you remember what your people did?" the Doctor circled the console, pressing a few buttons here and there, "You invaded the Earth, and how many times have I clearly, blatantly explained that the planet is directly under my protection? I issued you a warning, telling your predecessor and your people that they didn't belong on the Earth, but you refused to listen. I did what was necessary."

"UNTIL THE HUMANS STRUCK OUR SHIPS WITH BALLISTIC MISSILES! MILLIONS OF OUR PEOPLE PERISHED!"

"Yes, I know," the Doctor hardened, "but that was not my doing. I advised against their decision, but they went ahead with it anyway. I am sorry for your loss."

"APOLOGIES WILL NOT RESURRECT THE DEAD."

"Believe me, I know that better than anyone," the Doctor pressed his hand against the console, "despite that occasion, here you are on my ship. Trespassing. Now for my question. What are you doing on board my TARDIS?"

"WE SPOTTED YOUR SHIP AND-"

"Decided to do what, exactly? Waltz on into my home and kidnap me for your revenge plot? Honestly, did you really think that would work? You've crossed me once before, an entire fleet of you. I stopped you then, didn't I? What makes you think four of your kind will be a match for me."

The King stuttered.

"I understand, you must restore your honor after what happened on Earth, I apologize for that. However, you made multiple mistakes when you crossed that threshold. One, you crossed that threshold. Two, you threatened Rory. Three, you've made me angry, and you wouldn't really like me when I'm angry."

Rory felt chills crawls down his arms and spine.

"Now here's what you are going to do first," the Doctor slowly walked down the steps towards the group of Sycorax, "you are going to gather your men and order them to leave my TARDIS. Then, you are going to board your own ships and dismiss my vessel from your scanners and radars. Finally, you are going to fly far away from my location, you will never contact me again, you will never contact my friends again, and you will stay away from Earth and any other planet under my protection. Do I make myself clear?"

The black-robbed Sycorax looked to their leader.

"I said," the Doctor shouted in a growling voice, "do I make myself clear?"

"YES."

"Good," the Doctor, "now leave. Immediately."

"BROTHERS," the Sycorax King didn't break eye contact with the Doctor, "LET US RETREAT."

The Doctor watched with cold fury as the Sycorax exited his ship. The black-robed creatures went first, the King delivered one last glare to the Doctor before leaving.

The Doctor snapped his fingers and the TARDIS doors slammed shut.

Once the aliens were gone, the Doctor's shoulders relaxed. He still felt slightly ill, but nothing a little time with the TARDIS couldn't fix. He placed his hand against the TARDIS and winced, feeling her pain.

"I'm sorry, girl," he stroked the machinery, "don't worry, I'll fix you up."

The TARDIS engines creaked and groaned, but they sounded a little happier than before. She was probably happy the Doctor was feeling better.

"Doctor?" Rory emerged from his hiding place in the corridor.

"Rory," the Doctor turned to him with a tired smile, "how's Amy?"

"I haven't checked on her yet, I wanted to make sure you were alright first."

"Oh, Rory," the Doctor chuckled, "I will be fine, thank you."

"Who were they? They obviously knew you, and from what I've heard, you've encountered them before."

"The Sycorax. I faced them a few years back on Christmas Day. Well not me, exactly, a different me."

"Oh, you mean your last incarnation?"

"Precisely."

"Will they come back?"

"They can, but I highly advise against it."

"That-that was brilliant by the way. The way you diffused the situation without even drawing a weapon or anything."

"Confidence, my friend, and cleverness. Anyone can do it, they just have to find it within themselves," he nodded, eyes a little distant, "Thank you again, Rory, for all of your help. You were very courageous to risk your life."

"Of course," Rory smiled, "well, I'll leave you two alone for a while. Better get back to my own Mrs. as well."

"Good, very good," the Doctor leaned against the console, looking very much at home, "make sure Amy is alright, she was very brave as always."

Rory nodded and walked down the corridor to meet his wife.

The Doctor finally had some alone time with his TARDIS. He checked all of her buttons and levers, he readjusted her wiring, and he cleaned her engines.

"Good job, old girl," he patted the railing, "once again, you have saved me."

The TARDIS purred in response, and the Doctor smiled.

 **THE END**

 **Hope you all enjoyed it!**


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